


Saturday Morning Cartoons

by Vrunka



Series: Adventures of Sentaiman [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Dirty Fantasy, M/M, Masturbation, Sentaiman Genji, Sex Toys, Shimadacest, roleplaying, sort of identity porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrunka/pseuds/Vrunka
Summary: Hanzo makes a questionable purchase.Takes place prior to Hero Worship





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to have read Hero Worship to understand this, but it probably helps. This is Qyoo and Whynot's fault, I'm simply the messenger.

The body pillow is a gag. It's clearly meant to be a gag. Girls on the Sentai Hentai forums just being silly.

(And what Hanzo of all people is doing on those forums, an accident of course, he tells himself even as he refreshes the page to bring up new threads and there it is like a beacon: BODY PILLOW COVER ORDERS)

He has it in his cart before he's even fully registered he's doing it. Typing in his credit card information with suddenly shaking, sweating hands.

Genji will never let him live it down. But Genji doesn't have to find out.

Expedited shipping costs extra.

Hanzo closes his eyes as he clicks that option. Not thinking about it. An accidental tick mark. And the pillow will be here in two days instead of a week.

\--

Hanzo agrees to work from home that day. Genji raises his eyebrows when he stumbles out of his room around noon and Hanzo is still sitting at the table.

"Skipping work," Genji asks with a grin. He stands on his tiptoes to grab a bowl from the top shelf. Bright characters from a children's cartoon chase one another around the rim of the bowl and Genji knows how much Hanzo hates it. Hates the childish edge.

But considering what he's doing home today, what he's waiting for, maybe he doesn't have room to talk this time.

"So what are you doing," Genji asks. "You hate working from home."

Hanzo shrugs. He hadn't really expected to have to discuss this with Genji. He hasn't come up with an excuse yet, a practiced series of lies, he moves his hands.

"Didn't...feel well," he says, making his voice tight. Clipped.

Genji's face shifts to sympathetic. "Man, well that sucks." He pour his sugar bright cereal into the bowl and Hanzo makes sure to flinch just slightly at the dry scraping sound.

"You got a package, you know?" Genji says.

Innocently.

He pops one of the cereal puffs into his mouth, makes a show of chewing it.

"What?"

"A package. Was here last night. Prolly got delivered when you were asleep."

Hanzo blinks. His heart is in his throat, rolling over and over double time.

"Was it?"

Genji shrugs. He isn't grinning, but every aspect of his body language reads that he would be. Toying with Hanzo, teasing him. "Do you want it?"

Hanzo breathes. Tries to figure the scene: Genji finding the package by the door, Genji--too curious for his own good--opening it.

"I ordered it, didn't I?"

Genji does grin then. His nose wrinkles. "Alright, alright," he says. "Don't tell me what it is."

He leaves his bowl on the table. Moves past Hanzo back in the direction of his room. Hanzo breathes a sigh of relief, he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. This is getting out of hand.

But at least Genji didn't open it.

**--**

Genji presses the package into Hanzo's hands, grinning. Trying not to show his nerves as Hanzo turns it between his palms. The box is elongated, but not heavy.

Genji bites his lip.

And he hopes Hanzo doesn't notice the more recently applied clear packing tape pulled across the seam. Or at least he hopes Hanzo assumes it was something done in shipping. By the post office. Extra security.

He hadn't really meant to breach his brother's privacy the way he has. Opening the box had been second nature; Hanzo orders so little, it is usually Genji receiving frivolous purchases.

Hanzo swallows, visibly nervous. Not as good at hiding it as Genji is. He lays the box aside. His fingers touch the tape Genji had put there himself, he picks at the edge of it.

"Thank you for," Hanzo swallows again, moving his head, "for bringing it in."

"Yeah," Genji says. "Of course. No problem, big brother."

He grabs the bowl from where he left it on the table. He retreats to his room. Before he can say something sly about how good his ass looks on that pillow, the generous plump the artist gave him. Hanzo wouldn't take the joke well, he'd get sullen about it, pull back into his shell.

Genji closes the door to his room behind him.

He leans against it, palm flat against the wood. The cereal trembles in his hand, he places it down before he can drop it. The blush on Hanzo's cheeks.

Oh god, Hanzo's face.

Genji sinks down, spreading his legs, feet sliding on the carpet.

He imagines Hanzo opening the pillow. Another, more indecent violation of Hanzo's privacy; but now that Genji has begun, he cannot stop. Hanzo's fingers shaking as he removes it from the box, as he traces the suggestive lines of Sentaiman's thighs.

Does Hanzo want to fuck him? Sentaiman, of course, not Genji, but the thought is thrilling all the same.

Genji imagines Hanzo, red-cheeked, maybe already a little hard, laying the pillow upon his bed. Stretching out next to it. He wouldn't know how to begin. Something so lewd could hardly be in Hanzo's wheelhouse.

Genji bites his lip, tugs his sweats down. Unlike Hanzo, fantasy is something Genji is well versed in.

But thinking about Hanzo being bad at it is so, so good too.

He strokes his cock and thinks of Hanzo nervously doing the same. Hanzo rolling over to straddle the pillow; Sentaiman looking over his shoulder, his ass up, his spandex ripped.

Would Hanzo press his cock down along the cleft of the drawn ass? Like he could slip himself between the torn fabric and the hot skin. Overheated and moist. Would Hanzo know how sweaty it gets in the spandex? How smooth the slide would be?

The fabric of the pillow and the heat and sweat from Hanzo's palms would only heighten the fantasy. The first rolling thrusts of his hips.

Genji groans.

God would Hanzo do that to him--if he was Sentaiman at the time? If he showed up in Hanzo's room with his spandex ripped to hell and his cock throbbing like it is now; would Hanzo lower him to the bed and mount him? Would Hanzo fuck between his thighs like he is fucking against the pillow in Genji's fantasy?

Is Hanzo imagining it like this as well?

Desperate.

Hanzo's cock isn't very big, he'd have to work at it, really grunt fuck to get any sort of resistance. And that thought alone has Genji pinching the head of his cock, pushing the foreskin down with his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, Hanzo making sounds, animal groans, thick from the back of his throat as he works over the pillow. His fingers fisting the sheets under it, lost in the fantasy of Sentaiman begging for him.

And Genji would beg. He'd make it so good for Hanzo. He would do pretty much whatever Hanzo wanted. As Genji, as Sentaiman.

Genji works his cock, fingers curling near the base. Applying just the lightest bit of pressure with his nails. Scraping them up to ruck under his shirt and back down.

The fantasy shifts.

What if it was Hanzo beneath him? Hanzo asking to get fucked by his hero. Hanzo begging. Holding his knees apart, looking over his shoulder. So ashamed, so shy. His cock hanging short and heavy and red between his thighs. The perfect size for Genji hand, he could rub the head with his thumb like he's doing to himself now in his room.

Genji shudders.

He imagines Hanzo hiding his face as Genji slides his fingers in. Or what if Hanzo had prepped himself?

Genji's mind stalls on the thought.

They make body pillows.

Do they make dildos? Shaped like some person's idea of what his cock looks like? Hanzo would never buy one, but Genji never figured Hanzo would buy a suggestive body pillow either. If Hanzo did though...

If Hanzo did.

Would he fuck himself on it? Never knowing it was Genji's cock. Bearing down on it, thinking of Sentaiman, but fucking Genji. And never knowing.

Genji's mind goes blank as orgasm washes over him. He shudders and groans, back pressing painfully against the door. So hard that it creaks. His fingers, his palm, the hem of his shirt are covered in come. Genji rubs his thumb through it as he comes down. His muscles relax. He pulls his shirt off, wipes himself with it.

Sentaiman dildos.

It's a thought.

He wonders if he'll be able to cover something like that with his next paycheck or not. The thought of Hanzo's absolutely scandalized face is worth the threat of overdraft any day, really. Genji pulls himself into bed, curls the sheet around him.

Sentaiman dildo.

It's going to be quite the interesting google search.


	2. Pervert-San and Sentaiman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commission. As always thanks so much for your support!!!
> 
> Takes place post Hero Worship

Genji is late.

Maybe it should feel familiar by now. But it doesn't.

Hanzo taps the top of his foot against the concrete, leans back against the wall. A different alley than that first one.

They've had to be more careful.

Genji is still a shaking nervous wreck every time. So worried they're gonna get caught. Hanzo fully believes they will not. He trusts they won't.

But Genji is late.

And that is slightly worrying.

Hanzo fingers his phone. Turns the screen on and off like it will produce a message from Genji. It's possible he got held up, fighting crime is after all something of a full time gig.

Or maybe he went to the wrong alley.

But no, no it couldn't be any of that. A group of girls pass by the mouth of the alley. Brightly dressed, loud, giggling to one another. School skirts and thigh highs and buckle shoes. Hanzo leans back into the darkness of the alley like some sort of predator.

"Watching high schoolers now, pervert?" A voice behind him says.

Overlaid and filtered and familiar.

Hanzo turns.

Neo Sentaiman.

The one and only.

"Am I going to have to arrest you, c-citizen?" Sentaiman says.

His voice catches a little bit. Slides out of character. It's a wonder he can keep it up at all; the act is so far from what they have become at home.

But the act is what Hanzo is here for.

Here on the streets, in public, Genji can only be with Hanzo as Sentaiman. And that thrilling, wonderful thought is what Hanzo craves.

Hanzo steps back. His shoulders bump against the wall of the alley. The concrete scrapes against his shirt. The material catches, rucks up. Revealing Hanzo's abs, the dipping lines of his torso.

They can't strip completely, there is no time for it. Hanzo scratches his fingers down his stomach.

"Have you saved many people today?" he asks.

He cannot see Sentaiman's eyes beneath the mask, but he can feel them. Hanzo shifts the shirt higher, fingers circling one of his nipples, pinching until the skin is pink and puckering.

"I have...pervert-san."

The nickname makes Hanzo snort, unexpected. Out of place. Awkward. Sentaiman chuckles too, shaking and breathy from the mask.

"Mmm. And did any of them thank you?"

Sentaiman shakes his head. He looks away. Not into the game, too nervous, Hanzo isn't sure which. But he doesn't want Genji upset, they shouldn't be doing this if he's really not okay.

Hanzo tips his head. He holds his hand out, lets his shirt fall back to cover his waist. Sentaiman stares at him. "You okay," Hanzo asks. Asking as his brother, asking as his lover. Sentaiman looks down at his boots.

"Yeah," he says. "I just want to make you happy." He steps closer. Short. He's so short. Hanzo thrills at the size difference in a way he never thought he would.

"This kind of thing makes me happy. But we can stop if you're uncomfortable." Hanzo leans his forehead against the visor. Curls his fingers around Sentaiman's upper arm.

"No...I," Sentaiman takes a breath, audible because of the mask. Whistling and indrawn. "It's fine, pervert-san, I want to do this for you."

His voice falters again. A whisper that the filter on the helmet makes toneless. He reaches up to touch Hanzo's lips, sliding his gloved thumb along them.

The old, blood-stained ones have long been replaced. Hanzo sort of misses that intimate detail.

"Maybe I should arrest you, pervert-san. Keep the streets safe from your debauchery."

Hanzo moves his leg. Slides it up between Sentaiman's to press against his cock. He's already hard. It's not really surprising. Nerves and adrenaline make for a potent cocktail.

"Won't you let me thank you first, for all you do. Seems a wasted opportunity if..."

Hanzo doesn't bother to finish his sentence. Trails off when Sentaiman humps against him. Eager like a dog despite Genji's misgivings.

Hanzo grabs him by the hips, tugs him closer. His breath fogs the visor of Sentaiman's helmet. "Come on," he urges, shifting to keep Sentaiman pressed against his body. "There isn't much time."

Sentaiman nods. His hands fumble against the front of Hanzo's jeans, between their bodies. His knuckles catch in the zipper. His gloved fingers sliding between the plackets.

"Holy shit, Ha...citizen," Sentaiman says. "Pervert-san going out without any underwear."

He sounds slightly amazed. Like he hadn't expected something like this from Hanzo. Maybe he hadn't. It's hard to tell what all Genji expects from him these days.

But Hanzo delights in the surprises.

He opens his mouth, grips Sentaiman's wrist to keep his hand firmly pressed against his cock. The texture of the glove, the grips on the fingers to allow for better handling, are rough. Chafe against the sensitive head of Hanzo's dick. Hanzo shudders, working Sentaiman's wrist for him. Jerking himself off.

He groans when Sentaiman frees his own cock. When he bumps it against Hanzo's with an impatient little nudge.

They don't have much time.

Hanzo said so himself.

"God I wish I could kiss you right now," Genji says. And it is Genji; it is because that isn't part of the act. Too soft for the role play. Hanzo tangles his fingers in Sentaiman's scarf, grips the back of Sentaiman's neck. He kisses at the mouth of the mask.

"Turn me around then," he says, gruffly. "And you won't have to think about it."

He thinks maybe Sentaiman will object to that. Genji in bed is soft and sweet and not really what Hanzo is looking for right now. Not in this moment at least.

Sentaiman watches him, Hanzo can tell by the way the mask tips. Sentaiman's cock leaking over his own gloved fingers and Hanzo's. Their slick mixing where Sentaiman has them held together. Dripping and messy.

The two of them.

Sentaiman takes a breath. It sounds shakier than it probably is. Sentaiman's hand squeezes around him, once, hard, reassuring.

"Okay," he says. "Turn around then. Hands behind your back, pervert-san, and I'll put you under arrest."

Hanzo blinks. The tone and the words are unexpected, shiver down Hanzo's spine to pool in his gut. He lets go of Sentaiman's neck and hip. He raises his hands in mock surrender. His cock curls out of his pants, obscenely.

Sentaiman is watching him, silent. Slowly, Hanzo begins to turn. Too slow. Sentaiman's hands grab him by the hip, turn and push him against the wall. A little rough, just this side of it. A moan punches from Hanzo's chest like a bullet. Rolling, absolutely turned on.

It would be embarrassing if this wasn't what he wanted so badly.

To be manhandled.

Sentaiman may be shorter than him, but he is strong. A crime fighter, a super hero. He can put Hanzo in his place. The thought is addictive.

Hanzo arches his back, pushing his ass against Sentaiman's uncovered cock in the process. Sentaiman gasps. Leans against him heavier, even though the material of the jeans can't be comfortable.

"I'm going to have to tie you up for the police," Sentaiman says. "Is...I mean..."

He's asking permission. Stuttering through it; out of character again. But Hanzo appreciates it. They haven't done it this way before and the sentiment--that Genji doesn't want to hurt him, would never hurt him--is genuine.

"Yes," Hanzo says, slipping his arms between Sentaiman's chest and his own back. Crossing his wrists. "Do it," he says.

Sentaiman makes a noise. A whine, high-pitched and breathy. He pulls the length of rope from the holster on his belt. It makes a sound, a similar whine, as it spools between his hands.

"Tell me if it's..." Sentaiman starts to say. Seems to remember his character and shakes his head. He loops the rope, over and over, ties it off. Hanzo cannot see the knots, but they aren't tight enough to hurt, don't even really cut the circulation much.

"Tighter."

"You sure?"

"Just a little."

"Okay." Sentaiman pulls something. The resistance increases. Still nothing close to intolerable, but noticeably tighter.

Hanzo tests against it, struggles briefly. "Perfect."

Sentaiman leans back over him, draped across him. The chest armor presses against his elbows. Sentaiman's cock rubs over his ass, again and again.

"Oh fuck," he whines, folding his chin over Hanzo's shoulder. Standing on his toes to do it, trusting Hanzo to hold the weight of his body. His hips jerk, Hanzo can feel the wet spot forming at the cleft of his ass from Sentaiman's leaking. Even through the jeans.

Hanzo moves his fingers, drags them over the molded plastic and metal of Sentaiman's chest armor. The beetle like segments that run down his stomach. He can't quite reach to Sentaiman's cock. A shame, a shame.

"Come on," Hanzo says, arching against as Sentaiman pushes his jeans over his hips. "Come on. Come on."

He's prepped himself; blushing at the indecency, fingering himself open in his bed at home. Walking down the streets flushed, obvious to anyone, Hanzo is sure.

Sentaiman spreads his legs as far as he can with Hanzo's pants tangled around his knees.

Not very far.

But good enough.

Sentaiman's gloves rove over Hanzo's ass. Drop away. When they return only one hand is gloved.

Sentaiman's skin is warm, sweaty. He slides a finger between Hanzo's cheeks, curls it to grind against Hanzo's hole. Extra lube drips from it, Hanzo can feel the way it does. The sensation makes him squirm, fingers grabbing tighter at the armor, at the material across Sentaiman's belly. Wherever he can reach.

"So wet for me," Sentaiman says.

"Oh Hanzo.

"I fucking love you."

It's not the voice again. It's Genji. But Hanzo shudders regardless and bows his spine so hard his bones start to ache. Because he needs this, he needs it. God fuck he needs it.

Sentaiman's fingers press in, two immediately, stretching him. His fingers are slick and cool with new lube, but even still the slide is slightly jarring. Not as gentle as he usually is but there is no time for it and Hanzo doesn't want it.

He likes the edge. It adds to the danger of being caught, the rush of it.

Sentaiman lines up, Hanzo feels him bump twice, sloppy leaking head against his perineum. Hanzo groans, his fingers scrabble, the rope tugs. Useless. Trussed up. Controlled.

He can be no help.

It's that that really has him weak-kneed. Sagging against the brick. Panting against it.

He feels the minute Sentaiman gets the angle right. Cockhead catching on Hanzo's rim. A bright line of pleasure pain up his back.

"Ready for me?" Sentaiman asks. Still on his toes, to be tall enough to thrust, to be able to use more than just the tip, to fuck Hanzo deep.

"Yeah," Hanzo says. His lips scrape the concrete, the slight taste of copper as they catch at the wrong angle. Hanzo dabs the spot with his tongue. "I'm always ready for you. You're my hero."

Maybe it's the wrong thing to say cuz Sentaiman hunches against him, shivers, his cock jumping and another string of precome spurting from the tip. Hanzo can feel it oozing from him, dripping back out and down Sentaiman's shaft.

He can only imagine what it looks like.

Filthy.

Debauched.

"Okay, pervert-san," Sentaiman says. "Here I go."

Hanzo doesn't need the warning any more than he needs the nickname. Sentaiman pushes up into him; fucking him open with slow, measured thrusts and Hanzo just about loses his mind.

His arms pull at the ropes, desperate to be touching, holding, gripping, grounding. His wrists ache, a dull extra layer of sensation.

Sentaiman holds him by the hip, uses the hand not gloved to stroke down Hanzo's back.

Lube sticking to his shirt. Sweat sticking it to his skin. Hanzo follows the light pressure, bending more at the waist. Giving Sentaiman a deeper angle as he pulls almost completely out before sliding back in.

He glances over his shoulder, his hair has come out of its braid, tangles in front of his face. Sentaiman does nothing to help him, is staring at where their bodies are joined.

Hanzo can imagine the sight.

Sentaiman pulling back just enough to see the fat red head on every backstroke, the foreskin pushed down the shaft. God. Fucking hell, Hanzo wishes he could see it to, would worship Sentaiman's cock every day if he could. Has on more than one occasion. Spent hours in the weeks following Genji's reveal on his knees in front of his brother.

But this is different.

This is Sentaiman.

"Christ, Hanzo," Sentaiman says. "You're so tight. You're always so..." he cuts off with a hiss. His tongue against his teeth, a sharp sound. Visceral.

Hanzo groans. His knees shake. The muscles overloaded by the sensation of Sentaiman filling him. The only thing keeping him vertical are Sentaiman's hands, cradling his hips. The bare one curls, fingers scratching at the skin next to Hanzo's cock.

Hanzo writhes.

He wants to be touched, to come, he wants for this never to end. The delicious way he feels stretched over Sentaiman's cock. Too much really, they should have prepped more.

"Fuck," Sentaiman says. It's not shocking anymore. He's got quite the mouth when he's worked up like this. It's not like the comics and Hanzo doesn't want it to be.

"God. Br--nnn, pervert-san, do you feel good?"

Hanzo nods. His face, leaned against the wall the way it is, is flushed, is scraping too much. He needs to be more careful. But he can't; he doesn't care to be.

Sentaiman notices. He pulls, hitches Hanzo's torso back to lean more against him instead of the wall. It shortens his thrusts, keeps them deeper, little deep twitches instead.

The mask knocks against Hanzo's cheek and Hanzo turns his head just enough to kiss at it. The silver metal beneath his tongue. Fogging from his frantic breathing.

Hanzo's control feels as stretched at his muscles. The pinnacle, the breaking point.

It won't take much.

Sentaiman's cock is missing his prostate, but it doesn't matter. The sensation of it, at this point would only be an overload.

"Want me to touch you," Sentaiman asks. His bare hand inching closer, knuckles brushing Hanzo's neglected erection. Hanzo grabs at the spandex of Sentaiman's shirt and melts back against him.

Sentaiman chuckles. Repeats the motion. Not even touching properly. He doesn't have to. His thumb tracks across the head, circles the wet and leaking slit and Hanzo loses it.

He comes all over Sentaiman's hand and the wall and the front of his own thighs. He comes and he comes and he shakes as it leaves him.

"Wow," Sentaiman says. "You look so good like this. Maybe it was a good idea, huh, pervert-san?"

But the teasing doesn't work with how tight his voice is, how strained. From between his teeth. Still working his hips in those tight, maddening circles.

Hanzo moans, mewls really. Overloaded, saturated.

He goes when Sentaiman urges him back against the wall. His shoulders sag.

Distantly he realizes his arms have been untied. His wrists tingle, feeling returning to the skin in waves. Sentaiman rubs them, gently, takes one in each of his own to place them against the wall. Hanzo's nails grate on the concrete. The cheap material flakes under the pressure. Little snowflakes of manufactured rock.

"Just hang on," Sentaiman say. "God you feel so good inside, it won't take long."

It has already taken too long. But Hanzo cannot complain. Sentaiman sets the pace, immediately, snapping his hips forward, killing anything sarcastic Hanzo may have said. His thrusts are mostly uneven. Animal-like pumping. Too worked up. He curses and groans.

His hands bruise Hanzo's hips.

Hanzo hangs on. The angle is better. Sentaiman's dick grazes Hanzo's prostate on every other uneven stroke. Sparks of blinding, white-knuckled pleasure. Molten. Impotent. Hanzo's dick hangs heavy and spent between his thighs. Come drying on it, come drying on his legs, in his pubes.

A mess.

Sentaiman's helmet strikes against his shoulder. Clumsy but forgivable. His thrusting stills, a shudder wrecks him, and his hips pump twice more. Driving deep as he comes.

The warm spreading wetness of his release makes Hanzo squirm.

Sentaiman lays against Hanzo's back. His full weight, slumped. Breathing. Together. It feels nice, though there is no time for it.

Hanzo moves his hand, his shoulder and elbow complain as he moves it back to stroke Sentaiman's hip. Fingers against the spandex.

Sentaiman makes a sound.

He stands. Disengages carefully. Hanzo still shivers at the loss. Turns once Sentaiman's weight is off of him. The wall keeps him upright. Sentaiman's hands reach out to steady him.

"Wow," Sentaiman says. His hand has been re-gloved. They are both gentle as they tuck Hanzo's cock away, as they pull his pants back up and over his hip. Light pressure as they redo the zipper.

Hanzo sighs, bats at Sentaiman's hands. His wrists, his forearms are streaked with red. Sentaiman touches him, carefully skimming the bright, swollen flesh.

"Sorry," he says. Hanzo can hear the grin in his words. Not sorry, the bastard. But Hanzo's not really sorry either.

Hanzo turns his arm this way and that. He pushes himself upright.

"Was I maybe a little too rough?"

Hanzo smiles, he shakes his head. His eyes flutter closed. He links his arms around Sentaiman's neck, rests his weight against Sentaiman's chest.

"You did it for me."

"Well, yeah. Of course."

"And you made it good." Hanzo takes a breath. He turns his head to press a quick kiss to the cheek of Sentaiman's mask. "I love you too, you know, little brother."

Genji's breathing catches. Buzzes from the mouth piece. He shakes his head, chuckles. "You're so lame."

"I'm not the one in spandex."

"I thought you liked the spandex?"

Hanzo laughs again. It feels good to. Natural. "I should go," he says. "Long walk home."

Sentaiman sighs against him. His hands flutter at Hanzo's waist. "And I'll be watching you," he says. "Every step of the way, big brother."


	3. Dildo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting the episodes out of order, somewhere someone is being fired over this.
> 
> A commission! I'm so glad everyone is as thirsty for this Power Ranger boy as I am.

Hanzo takes a shaking breath. His eyes wide, head tipped back to look up at Genji's face. There is come, splashed across his chin, just a dash of it. Or maybe it's lube, Genji cannot tell.

He reaches out to wipe it away. Hanzo nuzzles his face against his palm.

Between his pecs, Genji's dick gives a valiant, aching twitch. Hanzo's skin, as if in answer, seems to twitch as well. His nipples are red from Genji's teeth, bruises on the sides from Hanzo's own unrelenting grip.

Genji lowers himself. His arms creak, protest leaving the position they have held so long. He rolls his shoulders, lets his weight sag against Hanzo's chest.

Come on his cheeks, the sticky squelch of lube. Genji closes his eyes. He doesn't care. He's with Hanzo. With Hanzo.

That's what matters.

"Do you have work today?" Hanzo asks. Genji doesn't ask which work. Some things are still better for Hanzo not to know.

"It's the weekend."

"So just...Hero work, then?"

Genji nods. If Hanzo finds it odd that his brother no longer needs to run deliveries on the weekends, he doesn't mention it. He also doesn't seem to find Genji's sudden influx of more money odd. And Genji will take that.

Admitting he left the delivery job to work at a sex toy shop isn't something he's quite willing to broach with Hanzo yet.

The move was two-fold. More money.

And.

Genji closes his eyes, briefly. Hanzo's head is tilted to the side, his eyes also shut. He looks at peace. Happy.

Genji touches his lip, drags his finger along the seam of it, and Hanzo opens his eyes.

"Hey," Genji says, smiling up at Hanzo.

His brother licks his lips. Nips the finger still touching him. Just the lightest pressure with his teeth, grazing. "Hello."

"Wanna try something?"

"Right now?"

"Better than never," Genji says. He sits up, watches the way Hanzo's skin seems to shiver at the loss of contact. So sensitive. Genji scoots down the bed, he bends down once to press a kiss to Hanzo's hip. To run his fingers through the mess Hanzo made on his own belly, sweat and drying come wiping off on his fingertips.

Genji leans over to rustle under the bed.

He pulls out his helmet. Lays it on the edge, right by Hanzo's knees. He keeps digging. Surfaces again holding the box he special ordered from work.

White and nondescript. He lays it beside the helmet.

Hanzo looks between the two items. His confusion is evident. The quirk of his eyebrows. He's blushing though, knows Genji well enough for that to be his initial reaction.

"Okay," Hanzo says. "So now what?"

"I bought you a present, big brother, and all you can say is 'now what'. That's gratitude for you," Genji teases. He climbs onto the bed, sits cross legged.

Hanzo sits up too. His knees curl under him. He wipes his stomach with the comforter, drags it up between the valley of his pecs.

It's a petty display of disapproval.

They are in Genji's bed.

Hanzo picks up the box. He turns it between his hands.

"Wanna open it?" Genji asks. He can't help the way his voice catches. Excitement. He's been waiting for this. Embarrassing and revealing as it is.

But he trusts Hanzo with this.

He trusts Hanzo with his life.

"Do you want me to?" Hanzo is also teasing. He has become more open, these past few weeks. Just slightly less withdrawn.

Genji grins. He rolls his eyes. "Don't make me beg, Hanzo, okay?"

Hanzo shrugs, he picks at the tape. Methodical as always. "I like when you beg," he says, offhandedly, like such praise doesn't go right to Genji's head. "You sound good when you're asking nicely."

The first tape circle loosens. Hanzo moves to the second. Driving Genji crazy with his slow pace. He stops at one point, rubs the residue from the adhesive between his finger and thumb and Genji makes a grab for the box.

He misses, not trying all that hard, and Hanzo ends up pinned beneath him. Hanzo's hair is a mess. His pupils blown wide.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. Okay. I'll open it."

He frees his hands enough to pull the top off the box.

Genji sits back as Hanzo unfolds the tissue surrounding the dildo.

The dildo.

It's wrapped still, the packaging is loud. Obnoxious. Neo Sentaiman in color posing on the front and the back with a raging uniform covered hardon. The cock seems to grow from below the belt. Green and silver and metallic.

Hanzo is brighter red than Genji has ever seen him before. Scarlet bleeds from his cheeks down his neck. The turns the package over and back. He doesn't seem to know where to put his hands.

The molded rubber inside is the same color scheme. Latex dyed green and metallic silver with little bumps up the side. Mechanical looking, though Genji is not a robot.

Hanzo is still silent.

Genji licks his lips.

"So," he says. He does not know what else to say.

Hanzo looks up at him. His eyebrows still flexed. None of his questions have been answered. He swallows, Genji can hear the dryness of his throat, the way it clicks when he tries to form words.

"It's...you aren't circumcised," he says.

The words strike Genji low in the gut. Hanzo isn't wrong. But it's not the reaction he expected. The barking laughter rolls out of Genji's chest before he can stop it.

Hanzo looks away. Still sensitive to these things, these perceived insults. Genji reaches out, he touches his knee.

"Sorry," he says, smiling. "Hanzo, I meant." He shakes his head. "I don't think they make them uncut. It'd...be some sort of health issue in sure."

Hanzo rolls the box again. He squeezes the hard plastic wrapper as if testing the quality of the dildo beneath it.

"Do you like it?"

"I don't hate it. Do you have scissors?"

Leave it to Hanzo. Genji rolls his eyes and holds his hand out. Trustingly, Hanzo hands him the box. He only makes a small noise of disagreement when Genji tears the packaging open. Genji's fingers circle the silicone. The green paint glows slightly in the cage of them.

He tosses it at Hanzo.

His brother inspects it. Fingers holding the base so that the dildo itself bobs slightly in the air. He places it between his pecs, as if comparing it to Genji's cock which was so recently there.

"Do you want me to use this?" Hanzo asks.

Genji swallows. "Thought it would go with the collection."

Hanzo's gaze is piercing. An accusation.

"Don't look like that, I think it's cute. And I...I'm a little embarrassed about how worked up the thought of you with a body pillow of me was."

Hanzo moves his hands. The dildo sways. "So you wanna fuck me with this?"

Genji licks his lips. Does it again. Convulsive. "Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"But you're wearing the helmet."

Genji grins. He can't help himself. "Yeah," he says. "Of course. Hanzo, I--"

"And you're never to mention that...purchase of mine again."

"Deal."

Hanzo hands the dildo over. Gently. Appreciative, though Genji knows he will never say so. He rolls over while Genji gropes for the lube he had tossed away.

They haven't really talked about this part before. Hanzo has seemed perfectly happy to suck Genji off when he gets home sweaty and tired after a night keeping the streets safe. Genji has returned the favor less times than he likes. Hanzo is nothing if not controlled in bed.

Maybe this will be good for them.

Genji slips the helmet on.

The space is claustrophobic. Genji's forehead immediately breaks out in a sweat. Prickling at the hollow of his neck, just below his ear.

Hanzo slides a pillow under his hips.

"Alright," Hanzo says. "Go ahead."

But that isn't how Genji wants this. Not how Sentaiman would do it. Genji crawls up his brother's body, hooks his chin over Hanzo's shoulder. He runs the dildo up Hanzo's spine. And back down.

The visor paints everything in shades. A smog over the scene. Hanzo blush is a dark, muddy red. Genji presses the mouth of the mask against Hanzo's cheek.

Hanzo shivers beneath him.

"Have you done something like this before?" Genji asks.

Hanzo shakes his head, once. Sharply. His hair is ragged, bed tousled, a strand of it sticks to his lip, Genji reaches over Hanzo's other shoulder, brushes it away.

"I'm going to make it so good for you, Hanzo. I love that you...you trust me this much."

Hanzo sighs, his hips move, a slight gruffness to it that he gets when he is embarrassed. Curt. "Of course I trust you," he says. "You're my...my hero."

Genji feels the persona snap into place. What Hanzo needs, what Hanzo won't say. Genji sits up, dragging the dildo down Hanzo's back again. Through the sweat that's collected in the dimples above his ass.

"Are you aching, Hanzo," Genji asks. Sentaiman asks. The shift in his voice isn't really a conscious effort, just something that happens when he puts on the mask. "Should I help you out?"

Hanzo makes a sound, his lip between his teeth. His head ducks into the crook of his elbow. His ass shifts, knees bunching to press the swell of it into Sentaiman's grasping hand.

A little in awe, Genji swipes his thumb between Hanzo's cheeks. The space is warm, Hanzo hole is tight and pink. The muscles all clenched, frozen and stiff.

"You gotta relax for me," Sentaiman says. He lays the dildo aside and picks up the lube instead. The pop of the cap has Hanzo jumping against him and Sentaiman leans forward to brace his head between Hanzo's shoulders.

He warms it between his fingers. More gentle and thoughtful than when he had drizzled it between Hanzo's tits. This is a wholly different matter.

He nudges Hanzo's cheeks apart with the knuckles of his clean hand, presses his middle finger against Hanzo's entrance. Doesn't push in, just moves against it, crooking his finger carefully.

Hanzo groans. Low in his throat. His body seems to relax somewhat, upper body melting against the bed. Genji cannot see his brother's face, but he hears the rolling moan of, "Sentaiman, please," and that is good enough.

He curls his hand, presses his finger in.

Hanzo opens beneath him. Bears down against the intrusion. He whines.

Sentaiman moves the finger, drawing out a little, pressing in. Genji has read plenty of hentai, watched plenty of porn. But nothing could have prepared him for this. Hanzo is all heat and softness and fluttering muscle. Genji watches the way his finger disappears within his brother's body, enraptured.

He doesn't notice Hanzo's squirming until Hanzo rears back and kicks him in the thigh.

Hanzo's face is scarlet. His eyes are huge and watery.

"It's enough," he snaps. "Add another. You're...it's...driving me crazy."

There is the Hanzo Genji is more used to.

"Sorry," Genji says over a grin that Hanzo cannot see. He senses Hanzo can hear it though, because he frowns, rolls his eyes.

"Just...I'm not fragile. I like it when you...aren't always careful."

"Oh?" Genji asks. He slides a second finger in, is almost surprised by the way Hanzo's body accepts it, easier than the first. The slide is smooth, the stretch seems minimal. Genji does not have particularly thin fingers; Hanzo's ass, stretched around them, the pink rim going red, is enough to have Genji hard again.

But this isn't about him or that.

They have a goal here.

Genji needs to remember that. The plot is nearing two thousand words and they haven't reached the main event.

Sentaiman spreads his fingers, middle and pointer, watching the gape, Hanzo's hole twitching at the sudden switch in gears. Sentaiman fills the space, presses a third finger in before the sight of that open hole, so red and soft, can distract him further.

His other hand makes another grab for the lube. He doesn't warm it this time, pours it over where his fingers are buried, crooks his wrist to collect the slick on his finger tips, pushing it inside, spreading it around.

Sentaiman curls his fingers downward, pressing as carefully deep as he can against Hanzo's inner walls. The sensation is strange, addictive, Sentaiman does it again, rolls his fingers in a wave.

He hits Hanzo's prostate this time.

He can tell by the way Hanzo grunts, legs spreading apart and body going tense. The sudden, surging ripples of pleasure in Hanzo's skin.

"Sent--nnnh--"

"Right there then," Sentaiman asks, rubbing the spot, flicking his fingers against it. Watching Hanzo writhe on him.

Under the helmet, Genji is sweating, it drips down his neck. He picks up the dildo. Another quick series of circles against Hanzo's prostate and he pulls his fingers out.

Hanzo's asshole, looser now, red and begging. Genji coats the silicone without taking his eyes from that wanting space, that pouting entrance. Not quite loose enough (fucked enough) to gape.

"You okay," he asks. Seems appropriate to. Hanzo's knees are shaking under his weight. When he shifts, Genji can see his cock, the strings of precome dripping onto the pillow beneath him.

Hanzo makes a sound, something Genji doesn't quite catch. Affirmation, if the way he thrusts himself back means anything.

Sentaiman doesn't make him wait any longer. He sits the flared head against Hanzo's hole. Takes a steadying breath before pushing it in. Hanzo goes rigid beneath him, then lax, utterly puddling beneath Sentaiman's hands.

The head slides in with relatively little resistance. Sentaiman angles his wrist, fucking it in at the angle he felt Hanzo's prostate at. Gentle and slow. Allowing Hanzo to feel every bump, every inch of the dildo as it slips inside of him.

Until there is no more to go.

"How's it feel?" Sentaiman asks. The wonder in his voice is not faked. He was not fully prepared for the sight of his brother absolutely wrecked from pleasure.

Hanzo shakes his head. Shifts his hips. "You..." he says. "You feel so big, Sentaiman."

The words turn over in Genji's gut. Not jealousy exactly. Hanzo needs this. Genji can provide it.

Keeping one hand on the dildo, Genji leans himself over Hanzo's back. The helmet brushing his shoulder blades, letting him stay submerged in the fantasy of it.

"I'm going to start fucking you now, Hanzo. Are you ready for me?"

Hanzo whines nods.

Sentaiman pulls the dildo out, not all the way, but just enough to press it back in, nice and slow. Even. The angle his arm is at doesn't allow for brutal thrusts, or even particularly powerful ones. He holds it by the balls, presses his palm against it in another attempt to brush Hanzo's prostate.

This second attempt is slightly more successful.

"There," Hanzo says, hips bunching beneath him. Bearing down on Sentaiman's cock within him. "Oh...oh fuck. Se-Sentai-i--I. Keep doing that."

Sentaiman sits up enough to do just that. To move the dildo more purposefully into him. Just a touch rougher. Dragging it out, pushing it in.

Hanzo is like a live wire beneath him. Twitching and panting. Genji's pillow beneath him is soaked, the pillowcase ruined and Genji finds he doesn't care. He could't care less.

"Think you can come without me touching you? Or do you want to come in my fist huh?"

Hanzo moans. Arches. There is sweat collected at the base of his spine and Genji regrets that mask keeps him from tasting, sliding his tongue through it.

"You," Hanzo says. "Want your...touch me. Oh Sentaiman, I want you to touch me."

And so he does.

And Hanzo shoots his load all over the pillow, and Sentaiman's fingers and palm. The sight has Genji's own neglected cock twitching. He grabs his brother's hips, leaving the dildo in him, sticking out slightly. The paint glowing in the darkness of his ass.

He presses Hanzo's thighs together, dribbles the end of the bottle of lube over his own cock and fucks into the space quickly.

Efficient.

Hanzo seems to understand. He keeps his thighs pressed tight, muscles stiff, when Genji lets go. The dildo bounces with everyone of Genji's rough thrusts. Jiggling just slightly.

Sentaiman, still fucking him.

Genji groans. He thinks of Hanzo being able to take both, Genji's cock, Sentaiman's cock. Filled to bursting, his rim so red and stretched.

It's good enough.

His body seizes and he comes between Hanzo's legs. More mess on the pillow. Splashing against Hanzo's cock.

Genji collapses over his brother's back. He expands just enough energy to carefully pull the dildo out and drop it beside them before he is hugging Hanzo to him.

"You are crushing me," Hanzo complains. No real fight in it. He sounds as exhausted as he looks, as Genji feels.

Genji hugs him tighter. He makes no effort to move.

Hanzo's hand lifts, blindly, bent at a strange angle. His fingers brush the bottom of the helmet, push it up over Genji's chin and off. It rolls to the bed, knocks against the dildo and the bottle of lube.

Genji kisses the back of Hanzo's neck. The lines of his shoulders. The tops of his ears.

"That was okay then?" he asks. He means it to sound confident. But there is a tremor in his voice that he cannot quite control.

Hanzo sighs. Smiles. His eyes are closed. Serene. "That was okay."

Genji grins. He lays his head on Hanzo's shoulder again. The position will become uncomfortable soon. Too hot, to sweaty. But right now, Genji would not give it up for anything.

Not for anything at all.


	4. Sentai Hentai Strikes Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all need to stop leaving me and Whynot alone together...
> 
> Another episode--this time in Technicolor. Check out that rad art at the end and then scoot on over to whynot's blog and send her some loving: http://bomacian.tumblr.com

"You spend a lot of time on those forums, don't you?" Genji asks.

Apropos nothing. On a Saturday.

Hanzo looks up from the paper work he was pretending to work on. The latest numbers, data, data, data, projections he can't even begin to comprehend.

On the television a sentai program is running. Genji claims they help his form--bullshit, if you ask Hanzo, he thinks his brother just enjoys the ridiculous action-based plots.

"You know," Genji says when Hanzo doesn't answer him, tipping his head. "Those uhhh. What do they call them? The fan pages? For...for Sentaiman."

Hanzo can taste the blush, copper across his tongue as it crawls up his throat. "The Sentai Hentai forums."

"Yeah those."

"What about them?"

Genji shrugs. He taps his fingers on the table top. "Nothing much, just wondering. Well...I mean like...people write there, right?"

Hanzo frowns. Genji grins. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing. Honest. I just. I don't show that side of my fanbase very much love do I?"

"They're manga fans. I honestly don't know if it's really about you at all."

Genji slaps both hands to his chest like he is wounded. "They draw fan art of me, I've seen it."

"They draw fantasy art. You don't have an eight pack, Genji."

Another blow, Genji flops back. His knees bang against the bottom of the kotatsu and Hanzo's papers jitter across the surface.

"They fantasy stuff too, don't they?" Genji asks from the floor. His voice rises up from under the edge of the table. His foot presses against Hanzo's knee. Genji swallows, he sits up enough that his eyes are visible. "They write stuff about me fucking them?"

Hanzo blinks. His fingers touch Genji's ankle, slide up and over the jut of the bone. "Actually," he says, "they mostly write about you getting fucked."

"What?"

"Fucked. I told you, they're manga fans. Death Blossom from arc one was pretty much Sentaiman's only interaction for three months. And after that there was Villains Mercy, Cyber Soldier, Cyber Ninja--"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Genji says, holding up his hand. Confusion clear across his face. "They're other characters?"

"They're villains. Mostly."

"And people write them..."

"Fucking you. Well. Fucking Sentaiman."

"Oh..."

"Not as fun to tease when you don't come out on top?"

"No. I mean. I just...I didn't realize that. I guess."

"You said it yourself, you don't keep up with that fanbase."

Genji makes a face, frowning, thinking. "And you like reading those?"

"The fics where Sentaiman gets fucked?"

"Yeah. I mean you read them, right? Which hero is your favorite," Genji grins, leans across the table. His hands spread through Hanzo's papers, knocking them askew further. "Who do you like thinking about fucking me?"

Hanzo's breath rattles from between his teeth, something in his chest shaken loose, clattering around behind his ribs. Skipping with his heartbeat.

"Cyber Ninja...probably. He's...he uses these...the cables usually, ties Sentaiman up."

"You wanna tie me up, big brother?"

"I...I mean the. Fantasy of it is fun."

Genji smiles, his teeth press hard into his bottom lip. He stands up. He moves toward his room.

Hanzo knows him well enough to follow.

\--  
Sentaiman tugs against the ropes. They are the wrong color, the neon green weave spooled from Sentaiman's own belt, but Hanzo can ignore that detail. It doesn't matter so much when Sentaiman arches his back, the plastic and metal plating across his chest trembling.

"You'll never get away with this, Cyber Ninja," Sentaiman says. His voice a growl from within the mask.

Hanzo settles himself between Sentaiman's knees. Looms over him. It's the first time he's allowed himself to think about how much bigger than his brother he is. Taller, just as broad without all the working out. Sentaiman's knees catch on Hanzo's sides.

"What do you think I'm trying to get away with," Hanzo asks.

The unchanging face of the helmet remain unchanging, but Sentaiman's chin tips. Hanzo can imagine Genji beneath it, scrambling for an answer.

"W-world domination," he says, roughly.

Hanzo smirks. He leans close. He doesn't have the same sort of face cover that Cyber Ninja has (never thought he'd be roleplaying this, cosplaying this, is that an option now, can they do that) but he keeps his chin tilted back. Resists the urge to drag his lips across the cool metal of the mask.

"No, no," he says, soothingly. "All Cyber Ninja wants is to utterly humiliate you."

Under the scarf and the spandex, Hanzo cannot see Sentaiman's throat, but he can hear Genji swallowing through the mask. Already worked up. Already panting.

"He wants to find out your identity," Hanzo continues, running his fingers up Sentaiman's chest, beneath the scarf. Sentaiman's throat trembles beneath his palms, Adam's apple fragile and bobbing. "And then he wants to ruin you."

He pushes up on the edge of the mask. Sentaiman, helpless beneath him, tips his head back and the mask slides up and over his chin. Past his lips. His nose. His watering eyes. So worked up already, pink cheeked. Hanzo lets the helmet tip to the side, it rolls off the bed.

"Please," Sentaiman says. "Y-you can't tell anyone."

"Mmm," Hanzo drawls. He touches Genji's lip, drags his thumb down it. "And what could you do, hmm? To convince me otherwise."

"I can't," Sentaiman says. "Please. Cy-Cyber. I'll...do anything." His lips are so shiny and swollen. Moist, puffy.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Consorting with the bad guys now, well that's...certainly something, isn't it, Sentaiman?"

Sentaiman groans, his head bangs back against the headboard. His legs hitch. Under the armor and the spandex, Hanzo wonders if he is sweating. He certainly hopes he is.

Hanzo pinches the material over the round curve of Sentaiman's ass. He lets the material go, it snaps back with a satisfying sharp sound. Under him, around him, Sentaiman bucks and whines.

"You have more of these?"

"What?"

Hanzo pulls the material taut again. Testing the limit of it.

Sentaiman seems to get it. He flushes. "Yeah," he says.

"Good." And with that Hanzo rips the spandex. It protests, creaks, only tears enough to expose the pale swell of Sentaiman's ass. Hanzo presses his hand into the rip, cupping the cheek, pulling it away to slide his fingers between. "I want to watch you fall apart," Hanzo says.

"I-I..."

Hanzo grinds his knuckle against Sentaiman's hole. The spandex across Sentaiman's cock twitches. Hanzo can imagine what it feels like, constant friction on his cock, but not quite enough. Not enough to get him there.

Hanzo licks his lips, he drags his gaze back up to Sentaiman's face.

He slips free from the cage of Sentaiman's legs. Smirks at the way the captured hero grunts and bucks.

"Lube," Hanzo says, dropping character to press a kiss to Genji's armored knee. "I have to grab the--"

"I know! Okay, just...just hurry it up."

Genji's face is scarlet.

It's more than a little bit adorable.

Hanzo digs under the bed where he knows Genji keeps it. His fingers brush plastic. He surfaces with the Sentaiman dildo and a bottle of lube. The dildo has been jammed back in its package, Hanzo had been wondering where it got to.

He frees it from the wrapper. Turns it over. "Well, well," he says. "And what's this?" He bounces the dildo against Sentaiman's lip. Watches the way Sentaiman tries to catch it in his mouth, not subtle.

"So eager to please me, huh?"

Sentaiman swallows. His tongue slips over his lips. Hanzo squirts lube over his fingers, smoothes them together.

"I...I just want you to let me go," he says. His knees press into Hanzo's sides, contradictory.

"If you work for it."

"I'll work for it, Cyber S--Ninja."

"Cyber Soldier wouldn't tie you up like this," Hanzo says easily. He flexes his finger against Sentaiman's hole, feels the way it clenches, tightening. "He wouldn't tell you to relax. He wouldn't care if he hurt you. He would just fuck you, raw, and gasping. Would you like that?"

Hanzo's finger slides in as Sentaiman does relax around him. Shuddering. Twisting. His spine curves, and Hanzo can feel the way muscles flutter, sucking him deeper. It'll be a shame to waste such softness on a sex toy, but Hanzo has a goal here. And Cyber Ninja doesn't have a body below the waist.

"You're a bastard," Sentaiman says when Hanzo does nothing more than fuck his finger out once, twice. Hanzo presses teasingly down on Sentaiman's trapped cock. Still not enough pressure to satisfy, and Sentaiman groans lower in his throat and bucks.

Hanzo adds a second finger in with the first.

He's not new to prep, though this is the first time he has done it to Genji. He doesn't know Genji's body as intimately as he does his own. And really, that's a shame. Sentaiman cries out when Hanzo spreads his fingers, flicks them inside him. His neck extends. Gasping.

They should do this more often.

Watching his brother come apart under him is pretty addicting.

"What a slut," Hanzo says, twisting his hand to press his thumb against Sentaiman's balls. Sentaiman man's feet arch, his body fucking up into something that is not there. His eyes flash as he meets Hanzo's gaze.

Silence between the two of them. Drawing, grasping silence. Just the quiet squelch of lube, their respective shuddering breathing.

"Y-yeah?" Sentaiman says finally.

A go ahead. He wants to be degraded. The thought worms down Hanzo's gut, settles heavy at the base of his own neglected cock.

"Yeah," Hanzo breathes. "Such a fucking whore. Maybe that's what I'll tell people, huh? How fucking hot for it Neo Sentaiman was."

"N-no."

"No?"

"I...you promised."

"We're still making good on that," Hanzo says. Sitting back to grab for the dildo. He maneuvers one-handed, not taking his fingers out of Sentaiman's soft heat. Lube drips off the firm molded plastic. The bumps, the circumcised head, the glow in the dark plastic.

He places it beside his fingers.

He slides it inside.

Sentaiman stops breathing. Hanzo watches the aborted twitching of his Adam's apple. Tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Hanzo holds the base of the sex toy, trying not to let it shift too much as Sentaiman's muscles jump and adjust.

"You okay?"

Genji bites his lip, his eyes squeeze shut. His eyelashes are clumped. He nods. Quick motions, jittering things. "Just gimme a...second...you can--I mean--tell me again..."

"Tell you what?"

Sentaiman, scarlet, stammering, clenching around the dildo, looks away.

Oh.

"You're taking it awfully well," Hanzo says. "For someone who isn't used to this." He leans closer, braces his hand in the pillows next to Sentaiman's head. "You done this before, Sentaiman, rode someone's cock, begging for it."

Sentaiman groans. His hands strain against the ropes tying him to the headboard. His hips shift, his eyes flutter.

"A thick hard cock in you and you turn into a puddle. Needy, worthless hero you are, huh?"

"Nnn--"

"What was that?"

"I...'m not. It's just..."

"Trying to tell me I'm special? Kissing up won't get you anywhere..." Hanzo pauses, debates, then adds. "Something else you can kiss might."

Genji's eyes go wide. His mouth begins to curl into a grin. Hanzo rocks the dildo, watches with satisfaction the laughter dissolve from his brother's face. Replaced with a bone deep shudder.

"Ahhhn-n-Not fair," Genji says. "That was the lamest thing I've ever heard."

"Cyber Ninja is lame, I don't know what else to tell you."

Hanzo kisses Genji's temple, the center of Genji's forehead. When he sits up, he is back in character, smirking, on top of it.

"So that's a no," he says. "Neo Sentaiman doesn't care much for his reputation I guess."

"N-no! I do! I...I'll do it."

Hanzo leans back enough to slide his sweatpants off his hips. He admires the view of the dildo, clenched within Sentaiman's body. More useless friction, maddening, unforgiving.

Hanzo moves up to straddle Sentaiman's chest. He rubs his cock along the seam of his lips like he had done with the dildo earlier. He watches the way Sentaiman's eyes light up, the eager way those moist lips part.

He puts just the tip in, nearly blows his load when Sentaiman immediately hollows his cheeks. Tongue pressing hectic and feather-light against the slit. Hot, hot, hot, Hanzo is already panting.

His hands pet over Sentaiman's hair. His hands grip the green, sweat-heavy strands. Between his fingers. Sentaiman looks up at him.

He goes lax.

Hanzo understands what it means. Another go ahead. Genji putting all his trust in Hanzo.

Gently, too gentle for the roleplay, Hanzo tips his hands to bear Sentaiman's throat. He adjusts his own stance, so that all he has to do is pull on Sentaiman's hair to drag him up and down his dick.

Sentaiman's eyes flutter shut again, then open, more tears down his cheeks. A flood of them. Mixing the with drool slipping out the sides of his mouth.

The abused state of him.

Hanzo's hips hitch at the thought. His cockhead butts against Sentaiman's soft palette and they both moan. The sound is an extra layer of pleasure across Hanzo's senses, just another note of static over the rising sea of his orgasm.

His grip tightens, turns rough. The strands tickle against his palms. Sentaiman's lips stretched around him. Letting him use him like this. His hero. Letting him have his way.

Hanzo loses it. His breathing comes up short, his next thrust goes too deep, and he's spilling straight down Sentaiman's throat.

His brother's hands twist frantic in the ropes and Hanzo backs up, pulls out. Come still leaking from the tip of his dick, spurting over Genji's tongue, over his lips, across his cheek.

A mess.

A goddamn mess.

Sentaiman coughs, his chest heaves. Each pull of air sounds wet, gurgling.

Hanzo has never seen him look better.

He swipes his thumb across the head, pushing the last slow dribble of it out. He offers his it to Sentaiman. Watches his brother lick it clean.

Little kitten licks. Red-faced, downcast eyes.

Hanzo sighs. Sentaiman's chest armor digs into the soft skin of his thighs.

"Wow," Hanzo says. "That was good, I'm a little impressed. Guess you must really wanna get free, huh?"

Sentaiman makes a sound, his hips move.

"Yeah," Hanzo continues. "You just want me to...untie you and...leave you here. Unattended. Such a shame." He leans back enough to trail his fingers over the straining bulge of Sentaiman's cock.

Sentaiman sobs, his voice comes out raw and reedy. "N-n-no. Ha-Cyber please. Don't...don't leave."

"Don't leave?"

Sentaiman bites his lip, shakes his head. His elbows are shaking. His hair is a mess. Hanzo climbs off him.

His brother's rim around the dildo is an angry shade of red. Twitching. Hanzo slides his fingers around the torn hole of the spandex, rips it up to reveal Sentaiman's cock. That same shade of red, at the tip, suffusing down to the base. His balls are drawn high and tight.

Hanzo circles his fingers around that dick. Squeezes at the head. Times it with a movement of the dildo, drawing it back and pushing it in.

Sentaiman keens. His hips flex. His cock drools, but he does not come. Hanzo tightens his grip. He moves the dildo faster, deeper, fucking it into his brother's body at a tempo that is too quick. He cannot sustain it.

Sentaiman mewls, his body stretches, pushing closer. Wanting this. His cock is so red, leaking across Hanzo's hand, swollen at the tip.

But he isn't coming.

Hanzo squeezes again. Drops his lips to suck at the head. Tonguing the foreskin, lapping the slit.

Sentaiman makes a guttural sound, a groan from low in his belly, right above his cock.

"Did I break you," Hanzo asks, "wear the filthy whore out?"

Sentaiman strains his head to look down at him. Their eyes meet.

Hanzo smiles.

And with that, Sentaiman comes. It's not all that impressive considering how much precome is smeared over Hanzo's lips and hand. His cock smacks against his belly, smearing across the latex shirt, smattering a rope of come across his body armor.

Sentaiman's body sags, his muscles twitch.

And Hanzo realizes he was wrong.

This, blissed out, fucked out, edged, is the best he has ever, ever seen his brother.

They really need to do this more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please don't be shy to come say hi on my shiny new writing blog: https://vrunkawrites.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: check it out!!!! https://sentaihentaizine.tumblr.com/post/163616474747/warning-escaped-villains-help-us-find-them-by
> 
> There's a Sentai Zine coming!!! Help us get it rolling by applying and reblogging the message!!!!


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